Still
by duaedenateist
Summary: She longed for him, she wanted to wake him up from his fake sleep, she wanted to feel him but it wasn't possible. They've lost what they had.


Felicity opened her door and let herself in. It was silent, like it always was, like Oliver wasn't there. She heard her bed's familiar squeaking sound. That's what they did now, Oliver was always asleep when she came home from work. Even though she knew he wasn't, she never said a word.

Once inside her room, she put her bag slowly on her desk, like it would somehow wake him, like he was sleeping. It was dark in the night and there was only a dim light from her bedside table lamp. She opened her zipper, he used to be the one doing it, his knuckled would brush against her back and she would shiver, he would chuckle every time and plant a peppery kiss against her neck.

That's how they would end up in bed, wrapped around each other, Oliver buried deep inside her, as deep as the sounds she would make. She would wake up in the morning with a haze on her body and would squeal to her face in the mirror, make up smudged every where, if she was lucky Oliver would wake up to her little sound and drag her to the bathroom as she giggled, she would tell him she was going to be late but he would cut her off with his lips. He would always get into the water first, to test the temperature, then he would pull her inside, shutting the glass door and pushing her to the cold tile.

She let her dress fall to the ground, not caring enough to hang. She looked tired under her make up, she always did for the last month. She placed her glasses on the table and took a cotton ball and took off her make up, she often avoided her image in the mirror without make up. But that night she took a look, she was dying, her relationship was killing her, eating her alive. Like it was doing to Oliver.

She longed for him, she wanted to wake him up from his fake sleep, she wanted to feel him but it wasn't possible. They've lost what they had. She sat on her bed, letting a few drops of tear fall on her legs. She took off her bra and reached for his t-shirt. She would at least have his smell, even though he couldn't have his warmth.

She lowered herself to the bed again, getting under the comforter they still shared, both using the edge of it, facing the other way as they lied down. Tears fell down from her eyes, her heavy breathing let Oliver know she was crying, like she did for the last month.

He never reached out to her, he never pulled her to his side all this time. He never comforted her and she always cried more silently the next time. But this time, knowing the the end was closer than ever he let his hands find her waist under the covers and pulled her to himself.

She turned in his arms and sobbed to his chest, his hands pressing her to himself, pulling her closer. He tangled their legs, he knew no matter the season, her feet were always cold and he was the one keeping it warm. She clang to his shirt, fisting it in her tiny hands and crying harder, louder. The way she never dared to do before.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others warmth.

o0o

He woke up first, he felt her still in his arms. He felt her hands still gripping his t-shirt like it was her life. He rubbed his hands across her back and her eyes fluttered open, she was always a light sleeper, which made everything all the more painful when he tried to sneak out of the house in the morning. She opened her eyes fully but didn't let him go. He sat up, pulling her with him. He dragged her to the bathroom silently, no giggles, no teasing.

Oliver took off her t-shirt, she did it for him. They undressed each other, quickly, mutely while avoiding each others gaze. They got in the shower together, testing the temperature together. They stood under the water, her head fell on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist. Oliver grabbed the her shampoo and washed her hair, she let the comfort over his hands and her shampoos smell envelop her. He lathered her back up with the dark green loofah she had bought. Soap slid down to her legs and Oliver pulled her head away from his shoulder to face her.

He closed his lips on hers, savoring her taste. He pulled back again and she left the shower, wrapping herself up in her towel.

Felicity left the house first.

o0o

Felicity bought his favorite wine on the way home. She opened the door and she found it silent again. Like Oliver wasn't there. She looked around and realized that her flat was empty.

She walked around in her house, saw the empty frames, his desk empty everything that was Oliver was gone. She looked in her closet, clothes gone. Even the t-shirt she wore a day ago, gone.

His pillow gone.

She sat next to her bed, wine in hand and let the tears roll down her face.

* * *

Blame Daughter - Still.

I don't know what I did but I did it...


End file.
